Classic Poem

If I had wings, my lady, like a dove
I should not linger here,
But through the winter air toward my love,
Fly swift toward my love, my fair,
If I had wings, my lady, like a dove.

If I had wings, my lady, like a dove,
And knew the secrets of the air,
I should be gone, my lady, to my love,
To kiss the sweet disparting of her hair,
If I had wings, my lady, like a dove.

If I had wings, my lady, like a dove,
This hour should see my soul at rest,
Should see me safe, my lady, with my love,
To kiss the sweet division of her breast,
If I had wings, my lady, like a dove.

For all is sweet, my lady, in my love;
Sweet hair, sweet breast and sweeter eyes
That draw my soul, my lady, like a dove
Drawn southward by the shining of the skies;
For all is sweet, my lady, in my love.

If I could die, my lady, with my love,
Die, mouth to mouth, a splendid death,
I should take wing, my lady, like a dove,
To spend upon her lips my all of breath,
If I could die, my lady, with my love.